


My Name Says It All

by doctor_bitchcraftt



Series: Boatnecks and Fishnets [26]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Adore post-All Stars 2, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 13:37:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19377799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_bitchcraftt/pseuds/doctor_bitchcraftt
Summary: “Go home hoes, where my Drag Race crown?”“It’s in a box and it belongs to me.”The Instagram video of Danny rapping in front of the crown on Roy’s bookshelf is wonderful, but there’s more to it than just a long running joke.





	My Name Says It All

**Author's Note:**

> Twenty minute writing spree.

_“Go home hoes, where my Drag Race crown?”_

_“It’s in a box and it belongs to me.”_

_********_

The Drag Race crown is surprisingly heavy - people never think about the metal frame and thousands of crystals as weight.  It perches askew on Bianca’s upswept wig, and she can feel Jinkx give it a tug to be sure it doesn’t fall.  It’s sitting on the bump she uses for height, and she suspects a queen with teased hair wouldn’t be able to support it.

Walking back into the hotel is surreal, one hand clutching the scepter and Courtney and Adore to either side.  It feels right between them, somehow.  Courtney has their arms linked, chattering away, and Bianca’s other hand is clasping Adore’s.

Their genuine joy at the announcement swept away the last of her fears that this night would change them, drive a wedge between them.  

The rest of the night is a blur.

Roy wakes up in the morning still wearing Bianca’s mascara.  There’s a weight across his legs that proves to be Shane, face first and snoring into the sheets.  On his right, Danny is snuggled close, lipstick stains still visible.  

He turns to check the time and freezes.  There on the nightstand, next to their phones and Danny’s wallet, the crown and scepter sparkle in the early morning light.

It’s 5:57, and he settles back against the pillows with a smile.

********

The crown is on display in the bookcase, scepter and painted fabric flower mounted in a case on the wall.  Roy’s used to them by now, but it was months before he could look at them and not feel a flutter in his stomach.  They’re a part of his story, as much as the fashion sketches and fan art that line the walls.

With very few exceptions, the crown stays in its box, protected from dust and fingerprints.   Roy of course takes it out to show his parents, and for Lola to admire.  It accompanies Bianca to the studio for a Magnus Hastings photoshoot (dressing up in her finale gown is enough deja vu to make her head spin), then goes straight back into the box as soon as she’s home.

After that, it stays in its box, sparkling amidst his books, until the night he has a drunk Danny on the couch.  All Stars 2 is airing, and even though Roy refused to watch any episodes beyond Adore’s stay, he knows Danny is still dealing with the emotional fallout.  Taking him out and getting him wasted seemed like a good idea at the time, and he’d hoped it would dull the edges.

Instead, he’s listening as Danny tears himself down, every bit of self criticism and doubt bubbling to the surface the longer he talks. Everything from online comments about his weight gain to reliving the unfair criticisms from the judges spills out.  Hot, angry tears trail down his cheeks, but he doesn’t seem to notice or bother to wipe them away.  

Sitting there, Roy has an idea that’s better than applying more alcohol.  He’s going to need a mirror, but Danny’s latched onto his hand and hasn’t let him more than arm’s length away since the trip down memory lane started.  The next time he pauses to breathe, Roy is on his feet and tugging their hands until Danny stands up.  He ignores the protests, guiding him down the hall and into the bedroom.  Once inside, he nudges him to sit on the edge of the bed.

”Gonna need my hand back, pussyface,” he cajoles, infusing a hint of wry humor into his smile.

”Why?”

He can tell from Danny’s frown that the next phase is going to be him wrapping both arms around Roy to make him stay put.  Before that can happen, he takes a half step back.

”I’ll be right back.  Just need to get something.”

Danny releases him reluctantly, and he moves quickly out to the living room and back again. He sets the item he retrieved on the bed, close to where Danny’s sitting facing the dresser, and climbs up to kneel behind him.  As predicted, Danny slumps back against him, face still downcast.

Gently, he nudges Danny’s head upwards.  Their eyes meet in the mirror over the dresser, red-shot olive green and amber.  

“See?”

“What?”  Danny shrugs, starting to look down again.

Roy rests his chin on Danny’s shoulder, presses their cheeks together.  He wraps an arm across his chest and continues.

”What everyone else thinks doesn’t matter.  It feels like it, but they do not get to tell you who Adore is or who you are.”

”But they’ve all seen-“

”They’ve seen what reality tv producers spliced into forty five minutes for maximum ratings.  I’m not gonna say I told you so,” he squeezes his arm tighter, “because you already know.  What I am going to tell you, and you damn well better believe me, is that you don’t need another competition to prove anything.  Not to your mom or your fans or your friends.  Not to me.”

”...I wanted them to see me.”  Danny’s voice is quiet, but he hasn’t looked away.

Roy sighs.

”You’re already a star.  You’re doing things in mainstream music that no other queen has, not even Ru.  So what if there’s haters out there?  They can fuck off, because none of them know you and if they actually loved you they wouldn’t be assholes.  Got it?”

Danny nods reluctantly.  It’s going to take more than this, but it’s a start.

He sits back on his heels and reaches across the mattress, then carefully sets the crown on Danny’s head.  The crystals reflect a million points of light in the dim room, throwing tiny rainbows everywhere.  

“You were always my winner.  And you never needed a crown for that.”

In the morning, Roy drifts back to consciousness, ignoring the low level hangover buzzing behind his eyes.  Danny has both arms wrapped around his waist and is drooling on Roy’s shirt, but his expression is finally peaceful.  

On the nightstand, the crown sits in silent witness, casting prisms of light across the sheets.  He should get up and clean it, but Danny stirs when he tries to slide off the bed, murmuring fitfully in his sleep and arms tightening.  Roy kisses his temple, waits for him to still, then closes his eyes.

He can put it back in the box later.


End file.
